


Stars and Sighs

by songofproserpine



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 05:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18067106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofproserpine/pseuds/songofproserpine
Summary: Jacob surprises Nyx with a camping trip, while the weather surprises them with an ill-timed storm. Cuddling, teasing, and traditional romantic tropes ensue.





	Stars and Sighs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea/gifts).



Nyx tilted her head and frowned. “I thought you said you were spoiling me today?”

Jacob stepped back from the tent with a look of pride. “I am,” he said, with just a touch of indignation.

A long howl of wind whipped around the clearing, sending her dark hair astray. “So when does the spoiling part come in?” she asked, pulling her hair back and sliding a hairtie around the strands.

Jacob pulled his watch out of his pocket and scowled at the scratched glass. “In about forty minutes,” he said.

Nyx stared up at him. “Are you joking?”

“Why would I joke about this?”

“More like why would you joke about anything?” she huffed—but she smiled as she spoke. “So what are we waiting for?”

“Nightfall.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You waitin’ to show me something that only comes out at night?”

Jacob shifted his eyes—and his frown—onto her. “Don’t try to guess.”

“You afraid I’ll get it?”

“No,” he said, “because it’s a surprise—a gift.”

Nyx’s heart gave a fast thump. _Gift_? That alone was a surprise. Jacob wasn’t the sentimental type. Anything he did—every kiss, every touch, every word—was delivered with a muted efficiency. Which wasn’t to say that he wasn’t romantic, he was just… very selective in how he expressed any hint of sweetness.

As Jacob busied himself with carrying their backpacks into the tent, Nyx fiddled with the zipper on her jacket, her thoughts drifting. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he almost looked nervous—which, in Jacob Seed terms, meant a twist of his lips, a faint arch of his dark red eyebrows, and a soft, almost haunted expression.

“So it’s a surprise that has to wait until dark,” she said, putting on pensive expression, and tapping one of her fingers on her chin. When Jacob looked at her, she flashed him a smile and gave him a long, thorough look.

“It’s not me,” he grumbled—but she saw a faint tinge of pink rise up on his scarred cheeks.

“Oh, I dunno,” she said, her tone playful. She hoped that blush would deepen into outright red. “Your presence is a present enough, y’know.”

Jacob speared her with a quick, cutting look. Her smile stayed in place, growing into a grin the longer he stared at her.

“Are you joking?” he asked.

Another gust of wind put in an appearance. It was colder, fiercer, clearly blowing down from the mountains. She hoped it wasn’t a sign of a storm—or worse, _snow_.

“I came all the way out here with you, didn’t I?” Nyx countered. “That sounds like a lot of effort for one little laugh.”

“It does,” he admitted.

“So no, I’m not joking.” Nyx dropped the smile and stepped right up into his personal space.

Jacob lowered his chin almost to his chest to keep her in view. His chest rose with his breath, drawing her eyes to his storm cloud-gray shirt and the dog tags he never took off.

“But I _am_ curious.”

“Like I said, a few more minutes, and—”

A sudden rumble of thunder cut through the rest of his sentence. Nyx turned to the sound, her amber eyes opening wide.

Off in the western edge of the mountains, a thick granite gray smear of clouds loomed like a stain. They knitted together faster than Nyx expected. She thought again about the wind—the ferocity, its cold, biting chill—and heaved a sigh.

Jacob groaned. “Perfect.”

“Guess god has a surprise of his own to share.”

He let out a single laugh. “Don’t bring him into this.”

Nyx nodded toward the tent, which was looking far more comfortable than it had before. “C’mon. Let’s get inside before this gets any worse.”

Nyx entered the tent first, flicking on the little lanterns that Jacob had positioned around the corners of the tent. The rain started a few minutes after they settled inside, hammering down against the canvas like pebbles on a window.

With every roar of thunder and wave of rain that swirled around them, Nyx felt her mood shift towards a strange mix of excitement and ease. Thunderstorms always made her nerves crackle with a similar energy. All that noise and natural fury reminded her of how vast the word really was, and how small was her place in it. The sense of ease came in thanks to the rain—and Jacob, of course. Who knew one man could feel so much like home? She should probably find a way to tell him some day.

They settled onto the carefully arranged layers of blankets and insulated sleeping bags, assuming their usual cuddling position: Jacob on his back, Nyx on her side, legs intertwined and arms curled in a loose embrace. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled her closer to his side, stroking her shoulder slow, rhythmic pets. This gesture—his hesitation, his slow touch, the warmth of his hand—was _also_ a gift.

Nyx knew that she and Jacob hovered in a strange limbo of commitment. Their chemistry was undeniable, which made Jacob’s recent, charmingly reluctant insertions of little things like home-cooked meals, coffee dates, and shared showers both a nice change of pace, and a much adored addition to their usual activities. Nyx wouldn’t complain about this slow but steady progress, even if it was a relationship all shuffled out of order. It was far from unpleasant, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have questions.

The rain progressed into a proper downpour, its dull roar almost devouring the sound of her low, steady hums. Jacob—so easily attuned to her every sound and gesture—had no trouble hearing her.

“What song is that?” he asked.

“Night and Day, by Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Huh. Good one.” He paused. “You got any Billie Holiday in there?” he added, poking the top of her head.

Nyx shifted against him, not so discreetly sliding her knee in between his own. She dug her phone out of her pocket, quickly thumbed through the apps, and found the music player.

Jacob tilted his head, peering at her phone with a scowl.

“Don’t go all Luddite on me now, honey,” she teased.

He froze, one hand clamped to her shoulder, the other pressed flat onto his stomach. “Honey?” he echoed.

Having found the song she wanted, Nyx placed her phone on his chest and smiled as Lady Day’s voice filled the tent, competing valiantly with the storm. “Don’t complain about the sound quality,” she said. “ _Somebody_ didn’t bring our record player along.”

Jacob hummed, which she figured must be as close to a laugh as he was willing to make.

Nyx reached over her shoulder and threaded her fingers through his. After a moment, he pressed his fingers against her knuckles, giving her hand a warm, tender squeeze.

“I don’t think the rain’s gonna let up any time soon,” she said.

“Seems that way.”

She waited, hoping he’d get the hint.

He didn’t.

“So from one to ten, where does your surprise fall on the “botched plans” scale?”

He paused. “That depends.”

“On what?”

Jacob picked up her phone and frowned. “On whether this thing can be more than just an expensive paperweight.”

“What would you like it to do?”

Jacob said nothing. She watched him browse with surprising skill through her phone, but still couldn’t understand why—not until her stargazing app opened up.

“Jake—”

He turned, his chin grazing the top of her head. “Yeah?”

“You wanted to show me the stars?” Nyx’s voice strained with a sudden rush of feeling. Her throat tightened, and she tilted her head against his chest, listening to his heart.

“The view’s good up here—usually, anyway. We’re far enough away from Fall’s End, so the lights won’t interfere.”

“Tell that to your brother’s giant statue,” she laughed.

“I’ll take it up with him at the next sermon,” he said, lifting the phone high so they could both see the screen. “Look—Orion, straight up.”

Nyx reached out to hold his wrist steady. “Figures you’d find the hunter first,” she teased.

“He’s hard to miss; he’s in the sky all year round.”

“So he’s solid, sturdy, and dependable.” Nyx lowered her hand and gave his broad chest a few pats. “Like you.”

“… Thanks.”

She kissed his cheek, right on the spot where his blush was the brightest.

They lay there for a while, gently guiding the phone around in front of them, searching for stars. Sometimes they had to sit up or twist around to find what they wanted, which resulted in one of the sloppiest games of accidental Twister that Nyx had ever played.

“Thank _you_ ,” she insisted once they returned to their earlier position. “This is definitely a nice gift.”

“But not a surprise?” he asked, cluing in to the unspoken word.

“Well it _is_ surprising to see you actually use my phone instead of call it a paperweight—”

“Which it is.”

“—and I also didn’t expect you to have such a sweet date idea.”

“A _date_?”

“Or we could call it a tryst if you wanna get fancy,” she said, eagerly shifting back into teasing him.

Before Jacob could reply, Nyx placed a hand on his chest, swung her leg over his hip, and climbed on top.

Jacob froze again. His small, pale eyes were cautious and careful as he looked her over. “Comfortable up there?”

“Very,” she said, shifting in his lap to punctuate that point.

As she pushed her hips forward and back, Jacob let out—and then quickly hushed—a low, eager groan. He slid his hands up her back, pulling her down into a kiss before she even had time to blink. For a man who looked like his jaw would snap if he smiled more than twice a day, Jacob was a surprisingly good kisser.

Nyx cupped his face in her hands, stroked her thumbs across his scarred cheeks, and pressed her lips against his own in a series of soft, quick pecks. “Thank you,” she said again.

“Hmm?” he murmured, his lips skimming lightly over hers.

Nyx began to grind against his lap once more, settling herself on the steadily hardening bulge in his (now tightly fit) jeans. “For bringing me out here. For being so thoughtful. For being you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She giggled and waited for him to smile before she rewarded his rare sweetness with another kiss.

The storm thrashed overhead as they lay there, kisses shared, breath mingling, nerves tingling with every touch and grind and whispered moan. Nyx slid a hand under his shirt, her fingers skimming a path down his chest, right down to the trail of hair leading into his jeans. She grinned with pride as he hissed against her lips, and wasted no time as she undid his button and zipper.

Before she could do more than lightly pass her fingers across the front of his boxer-briefs, Jacob curled his arms around her waist, sat up, and flipped her onto her back.

“Hey!” she protested, settling down with a huff. She planted her feet down hard, her legs falling open so Jacob could slot himself between them.

“Yeah?” he laughed, his rough fingers making quick work of her own jeans.

Nyx sat up, eyebrows raised, as Jacob tore at the laces to her boots. He lifted her ankles one by one, pulling off her boots and adjusting her socks so they stretched as high up her calves as they could go.

“It’s my turn to be on top,” she said, lifting her hips as she shimmied her pants down her hips.

Jacob leaned forward, sliding his lips along the inside of her leg, creating a wildfire along her nerves. Nyx held her breath as best she could—a difficult task, especially when he cupped his hands under the back of her thighs and gave her ass a nice, firm squeeze.

“Not a chance,” he tutted, kissing the front of her panties. He pulled a little swatch of the black fabric into his mouth. He laughed, low and deep, as she let out a quick gasp.

Nyx opened her mouth, ready and willing to argue (he made it so easy, and it was _fun_ ), but then Jacob lifted his head, looked her in the eye, and said, “I told you I was gonna spoil ya, remember?”

She nodded, breathless, wordless. A rush of warmth surged through her chest, and she sank her fingers into his hair, smoothing the side-swept fringe from his eyes.

“I guess that’s fine,” she teased, pretending to pout.

Jacob shook his head and carefully tugged her panties aside. His kisses were gentle, on account of his beard, and were soon replaced by deft, quick flicks of his tongue. With every whimper and hushed word of praise that rushed from her lips, Jacob shifted his head, skimming her thighs with kisses and light, teasing nips. Over and over he did this, accurately assessing just when she drew close to the peak of pleasure, and gradually pulling her back just enough to make her moan.

After a few minutes of this—teasing and tasting, rewarding and denying—Nyx seized his hair, lifted his head, and gasped, “ _Be nice_.”

Jacob winked at her. She barely had time to recover from this charming sight before he slid a finger inside her warmth, slowly, carefully, right up to the knuckle.

“You’re not the only one who can play games, honey,” he crooned.

Nyx lifted her hips as he added a second finger. She swore with a gasp as he added a third, stroking her, stretching her. When he curled his fingers back and forth, hitting that sweet spot he knew she loved, she dropped down to her back with a whimper.

“ _Please_.” Her voice was faint, pleading.

Jacob laughed, his voice low and husky. “Good girl.”

They made quick work of their clothes, undressing from the waist down and discarding them with eager haste. When Nyx settled down again, Jacob hooked a finger into his cast aside coat and pulled out a familiar foil package.

Nyx smiled. “Oh, good. Love a guy who comes prepared.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “No puns,” he snapped, putting the condom on.

“No puns, just fun,” she said, lifting her hips. She chewed on her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as he guided the tip of his cock inside and moved deeper, filling her with long, savoring thrusts.

Neither of them were interested in drawing this out, but only Jacob seemed fully intent on doing all the work. He batted her hand away when she circled her fingers around her clit, spearing her with a sharp, almost petulant look.

“It’s my turn,” he said, threading his fingers through hers and pinning her hand above her head.

She smiled, breathless. “Get busy then, big boy.”

And so, he did.

Jacob’s thrusts were quick and deep, but his fingers moved in slow, long circles over her clit. His eyes were almost all pupil and heavily-lidded, savoring every sound she made, every tinge of pink on her neck and cheeks. He pressed in deeper, angling his hips to fill her at the angle she loved so much, and she slid her nails along his back, hooking her legs around his waist with what little strength she had left.

The minutes passed in a choir of thunder and groans and the steady, rhythmic taps of thighs to hip. A little frisson of warmth rushed down her belly, pooling in between her legs. She arched her back with a cry, and Jacob slid his free hand underneath and held her steady. His tilted smile shifted, lips parting as his breathing grew heavy, ragged. He let go of her hand and returned his touch between her legs, thrusting, stroking, teasing, coaxing.

Nyx grasped feebly at Jacob’s wrist, holding his fingers against that little bundle of nerves, whispering a steady plea of, _don’t stop, just like that, yes—yes._ She moaned, tilting her head back as her climax approach in rapid, steady waves.

“Do it,” he growled, following her every sway and tremble. “Do it, come for me—let me hear you.”

Her mouth fell slack, her mind wiped blissfully, beautifully blank as she came. Once she regained her breath, Nyx traced small, soothing circles on Jacob’s lower back, coaxing him quietly to his own end. His thrusts grew short, erratic, hard, drawing out the tight coil of her nerves and the slow-fading rush of her orgasm as he drew closer to his own. He came with a low sigh, and it was the softest, sweetest music to Nyx’s ears.

Jacob lay down against her chest, settling in her open arms and waiting embrace. She stroked his hair, listening to the rumble of thunder as it gradually eased from a roar to a faint, fading grumble.

“You were right,” she said once they had both caught their breath.

“About what?” he murmured, his words sluggish and sleepy.

“You _did_ spoil me,” she said, kissing his forehead.

Jacob went still. “Yeah, well… You’re worth it.”

“Of course I am,” she laughed. “And you know what else?”

“No.” He lifted his head from her chest so they could speak face to face, eye to eye. “Don’t make me guess.”

Nyx trailed her finger down his nose, and gave the tip a small wiggle. “Next time it’s _your_ turn.”

Jacob’s smile was small and mostly hidden by his beard—but Nyx saw it. Saw it, cherished it, stamped the image of it in her memory.

“Promise?” he asked, his lips hovering over her mouth.

“Promise,” she breathed, and fit her lips around his smile in a warm, slow kiss.


End file.
